


24 Hours?

by terribleCoder



Category: Tribe Twelve
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23546665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terribleCoder/pseuds/terribleCoder
Summary: The day to day paranoia of Noah Maxwell. Set right around Crawlspace.#StayAtHomeChallenge
Kudos: 16
Collections: #StayAtHomeChallenge





	24 Hours?

15:32

It's going to be a good day. Noah slept for three hours last night. No dreams, no sleepwalking. Not ideal, but every time The Administrator bother someone else is a blessing akin to death.

Noah believes he'd do something productive. Grocery shopping, shaving, normal human things. Maybe he'll get some new info from his tapes or read the journal.

"Noah," whispered the journal.

One word. It's half a day and the journal only spoke one word. Not even an insult. What a record.

17:10

To the grocery store it is. Noah had finally gathered the strength to get out of bed. He huddle over the door, making sure he has everything he needs. Money? Journal? Crumpled in his hoodie. Along with a fortune cookie. His shopping list: grocery, alcohol, cigarette, booze.

The door opens and Noah is hit by a wave of rotten stench coming from the porch. A rabbit. Eyes gouged out.

_Fucking original._

"You're still going outside?" the journal said.

"Yes. Shut up."

Noah retreat to the sofa.

21:12

Parent called. The entire conversation was a constant repetition of i'm busy. They said you should visit. Noah replied the job is going great but I don't think I can visit. Sorry. He doesn't want any of them die.

"You're a liar," said the journal.

Noah drinks a gulp of his vodka. There's a fortune cookie on the ashtray. He drinks again.

02:41

Noah was going to shave when he find a familiar terror placed in the middle of the sink. A fortune cookie. There's one on the bathtub. Another under the sink. Two behind the tv. A cookie again inside the fridge.

_Stop. Once you find one you can't stop finding more._

The fridge is stocked full. Only with liquids, though. Water, whisky, vodka, and brandy.

Noah stares at the bundle of sweets on his hand. Smooth, brittle, yellow brown. Feels like plastic. Tastes like plastic.

03:22

Noah's computer instantly lags when he plug in his camera. There's too many footage. Nothing is ever deleted. Even during the time his youtube channel were merely a way to commemorate his dead cousin. Milo never had many friends. Even The Administrator calls his mother selfish. Video is only proof he exist.

"Read me, Noah."

"Why can't you read me?"

Noah had gotten good in ignoring. He curse under his breath. Too many frame of his contorted face. Not enough information. But then he'd always panic when Observer sneak into his house.

23:11

Noah must've drifted off somehow, because he is back in the past. His room doesn't smell like alcohol. The windows are wide open. A leaf is stuck on his hair.

Kevin sits cross-legged on the floor. He's tinkering with Noah's playstation. Milo is holding a copy of Resident Evil nearby. The old camera rests upon the floor.

"This thing is dirty." Kevin said, wiping the surface of the old console. "Did you even use it?"

"I'm just busy. It's been a while, you know?"

"Yeah. Learning and graduating."

Noah brings the camera to his lap. It's still recording. A flick of a switch, and everything turns black and red. The console's gone. Milo gone. The house disappear.

Observer, puppeting Kevin's body. But he has an oversized eyeless rabbit for a head.

Noah wakes up to a dead laptop and no answers.

01:14

"Observer, fuck you." Noah's voice echoes on the ceiling.

The fortune cookies are fucking everywhere. Bathtub, sink, bag, bookcase, door, shoe, vase, carpet, shoerack, even on the rabbit. He flung them all to the wall.

"You're can't scare me with this. Try again!"

03:17

Noah did it. He took Grandpa Karl's journal. Noah can never win. But he can survive now. He opened the book. The paper smells like termites. It's empty.

Another nightmare.

05:06

Noah slams the journal to the table. The book whispers, "you're a failure."

"I had it with you!"

"I mean what I said. You can't do anything without no one patting your back. That's why you film everything. That's why you're stagnant now. You can't even read me."

Noah turns off the camera. He grab a pair of scissors and pick up the journal.

"Cocksucker. You want me to read you so bad."

As soon as Noah move the scissor along the leather handle, the journal croaked, "No."

"What do you want then?!"

"I'm your cousin. I don't want to die."

Noah could almost hear the human voice trapped inside the distorted whisper.

08:04

How long had Noah stared into the ceiling? His eyes burned. Either from crying or not blinking. His breath reeks of smoke and vodka.

The journal is quiet. Can a journal sleep? Noah hopes it could. These last few years, despite the nightmares and insomnia, sleep was his respite.

Moments like this almost made Noah wish he had lost. He dies and The Administrator do god knows what to his body. At least he could meet Kevin and Milo again. In a way.

And maybe he'd go numb.

10:57

Noah drags himself to bed. His head hits the pillow. Soft as always. But the sheets are rank with rot. He gets up again, trying to find where it's coming from. It's underneath the pillow. A pair of rabbit eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
